Anorexia fighting the Lack of Meaning
Is there anything from which to subtract my anorexic body?
– There is an enigma in me, an X.
The remainder after my fleshly body.
Eliminating all of my carnal, substantive “person”, drives me to me.
So there is X resulting of the subtraction of my body’s substance.
It still stays a sort of bloody skin without flesh, only bony dry shape
with extensive limbs moving in the air.
There is a lack of meaning: “me as an X.”
This lack of meaning is me, and I love it, it’s my strength, hardcore center, the ” heart of me”.
And it never gives up!
I’ve a happy experience of living in this X.
It’s stronger than my body! stronger than you and your intention of making me the same as you.
I stay “unexplained X.” I’m happy with that!
I’m a damaged “X”ed out object, and a damaging “X”ing out subject as well.
(cf:Ellen Siegelman)(Metaphor and Meaning in Psychotherapy).
Standing in front of you, is introducing myself to you, showing myself as an X.
My X makes me “roped off.”
And I cross my legs and my arms, because I’m scared of you.
This X is the proof of me.
It’s what I’ve made with me and my consciousness, my soul, my heart and my limbs.
But what have I done with the torso of my body?
It’s discussing to think about it.
I’ve thrown it in a dark forgotten cellar.
I don’t remember……
This X is a human body without its trunk.
Photo retouchee de Richard Seaman. original on www.richardseaman.com
They want me to have a stomach they can fill and shut me up.
They want to judge me by my stomach capacity, my sexual ability,
They want me needing everything all the time, like a greedy pig,
a selfish woman greedy for fame.
There is somenone there, in X, I swear, it’s not an illusion.
Someone with a sex, with a fervently beating heart, a sweety mouth, sharp eyes,
an effective anal sphincter muscle , with spiritual hands and feet.
I feel my cardiovascular system, I feel my blood in my veins, I feel my lungs where my blood is oxygenated,
I feel the pressure of this liquid life.
I don’t feel the reason for digestive system to be here.
I don’t need it.
This process of putrid absorption belongs to a shabby, sinister snake threatening me constantly
to die or to blow up, making poisonous sewage drain away, all over my face,
infesting my opened mouth, blinding my red eyes already dead.
I don’t have a digestive system!
Is that possible I could be a disembodied disobedient girly ghost?
A sort of cross floating in the air?
My X doesn’t seem to be the noble axis “X” on which the tightrope walker is balancing on his feet.
I feel the lack of my mind in this machine X, sometimes.
Because I used to be hidden under X, I ‘ve become confused about who I really am.
I’ve become this bloody skin without flesh, this bloody dumb blind Seastar.
X = bloody Seastar
Photo retouchee de Ken Kurtis. www.reefseekers.com
Is there somebody able to help me to reconnect “all these parts of me with a torso?”
A trunk of needs and full of unsatisfied pleasures.
I cannot embody this unstable trunk of fleshly reality, because it’s real with its castration.
I suffer, it’s really true!
Where is X? Where is my consciousness? Where is my body?
Why do my muscles in my thighs hold out even if I keep running so long,
even if I don’t give any sugar to them, even If I’ve vomited before running?
Why am I still alive?
I am more than my body!
(becomes) “I am not my body!”
Where am I????
I’m not in this nasty body.
I love my body and I hate it.
I want to move with my soul, I want to speak with my body,
dancing, running, becoming music.
I’ve never been so sensual when I’ve run to the limits of my possibilities,
when I’ve reached the essential of me, after purging life, food, shit, of my body.
I’m definitely an X person.
Alice Odilon. all rights reserved.